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by YoiteMichealis



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Alcohol, Friends to Lovers, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, Link ran away from Hyrule because shit sucks, M/M, Male Sheik, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SWEET BOYS, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content, Sheik is a Separate Character, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, no beta we die like men, starts off real sad im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-05-29 13:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoiteMichealis/pseuds/YoiteMichealis
Summary: “Please, Zelda. I know he’s real. Please just let me see him. Just once. He doesn’t even have to meet with me. I just need to see him.” Link watched from his place on his knees as something inside of Zelda broke.“Do you really want to know the truth?” Zelda had sounded so sad, like she knew Link had already made up his mind.Nine years ago, Link saved Hyrule. But, since then he had been running from his trauma. Alone and struggling, maybe he can find solace in an old companion.





	1. Hatred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story has been bouncing around my head for months and this chapter is finally full fledged enough to post. My GhiraLink fanfiction is giving me trouble so I'm taking a lil break. Don't worry though, I'm way too emotionally invested in these boys so this will be finished. Also, huge shoutout to all the other Shink authors y'all rock thank you for being great

Link was on his third drink before he felt calm enough to sit down. The taste of sweet, fruity Sheikah wine was a comforting haze over his mind. The wine was deep purple, the kind that was birthed from a mixture of cactus fruit and dates in the thick, sweltering air of summer. The village had dipped into their strongest alcohol for the festival, so this particular wine had probably been fermenting since last summer at least. Link would not have been this drunk off of younger wine.

Even under the sweet daze of intoxication, Link felt like an outsider among the swirling bodies of the Sheikah as they danced. Makeshift benches had been set up at the very periphery of the town square, leaving Link physically separated from the light bouncing from lanterns and bonfires. During his travels, Link had found that the Sheikah inhabiting the desert bordering both Termina and Hyrule had different traditions than the ones of Hyrule. These Sheikah also held their dead with deep reverence, but the sands of the Syrlan desert didn’t allow for the extensive crypts that reminded Link of the horrors of the Shadow Temple. Syrlan, meaning simply desert in Sheikah, was what the village called their home, and Link hadn’t heard of anyone calling it anything different. The village itself was named Sh’ru, after the goddess that took form in the shape of the large oasis pond that sustained the Sheikah living there. Link thought the pond looked vaguely humanoid at best, but most Sheikah he had met were deeply religious, and would not appreciate even mild sacrilege against their chosen goddess.

Being the hero of time didn’t give him a pass.

In fact, no one in the village knew what he had gone through for both Hyrule and Termina. Only a handful of people knew his name. Link preferred it like that. The relative anonymity comforted him, it felt like there weren’t as many unattainable expectations now. The Sheikah were usually a reclusive, distrustful people – with good reason – but Link’s sudden appearance had been made more palatable with his nearly perfect mastery of the Sheikah language and good understanding of their customs. After two years of living in Sh’ru, Link still received odd looks in the market sometimes, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the tiny village. Sh’ru reminded him of the only solace he had during the war, and that the people he had fought so hard to protect were thriving.

Zelda had sent him back in time after he had sealed away Ganon, but he had requested to retain his memories. He hadn’t allowed himself more than thirty minutes to revel in reuniting with his old house in the forest before mounting Epona and riding to the spirit temple. He knew, if things went as they had before during the war, then in one week the king would become paranoid and influenced by his racist advisors and send his armies to wipe out the race that had been loyal to his family for centuries. When they finished killing the Sheikah to the West, some of the army would mutiny and become radical, seeking out every Sheikah in Hyrule and the surrounding lands, leaving only the Sheikah dwelling in Termina.

Genocide.

Link, listless with dehydration and exhaustion, nearly falling off his horse, had found a Sheikah scout and pleaded for her to listen. By some miracle, the Sheikah woman had believed him enough to warn her village, and the message had spread. By the time the attack had reached most Sheikah settlements, the people had long since fled or set up defenses. Link would be foolish to think that he had prevented all unwarranted killing, but villages like Sh’ru had not become ghost towns in this timeline, a fact that had brought Link to tears when he had found it seven years after resetting events. He constantly worried about being found out and his relationship with the village changing if they found out that he was the hero of Hyrule. He didn’t like all the expectation during the war, didn’t like the feeling of everyone relying on him. He didn’t deserve it, he couldn’t protect everyone. 

After years of journeying, searching, Link had settled into Sh’ru in a tiny house that had previously belonged to a young couple. The pair, both farmers, had moved out soon after their marriage – the house was much too small to start a family in – and had been willing to sell their home to a quiet stranger. Link had seen them earlier that night, the two lovers trading the responsibility of rocking their baby daughter, who was somehow calm despite the rhythm of drums thick in the air. She wasn’t the only child at the festival- the summer solstice was very important to the Sheikah, and had become more so after the king’s attempted genocide. Not only was the solstice a religous holiday, it had also become a symbol of the Sheikah people’s continued survival.

A rousing cheer went up in the square and there were suddenly even more bodies pressed together in the heavy, humid air. There had been rumors that some of the guards from the next, larger, town over were going to visit for the celebrations. Clearly, they had made true on their promise. The other town had its own festival, but almost all the military personnel in Sh’ru had been trained by their generas, and the two militias were quite close.

With the addition of so many more young adults to the festivities, the revelers became louder even though Link was sure it was already past midnight. His introverted nature nearing the bottom of his reserves of energy, Link had almost reconciled his drunk brain into going home when someone set next to him on the makeshift bench. Link heard, rather than saw the figure because, one, he was still watching the dancing Sheikah, and two, because his new companion had come from behind the bench, which was nearly impenetrably dark in comparison to the firelight. Link was no less overwhelmed by the noise of the festival, but he felt like leaving immediately after someone else sat down would be insulting to his new companion.

A deep chuckle interrupted his frantic plans for a polite but quick exit. Even though the sound was hardly more than a miniscule vibration compared to the beat of the drums, the stranger had a laugh that made one want to join in. The sound was powerful, like the raging sandstorms of the desert, but warm and kind, like a quiet night in front of a fire.

When he turned to look at what the stranger was laughing at, Link’s eyes were immediately struck with mirth filled red eyes. The Sheikah all had red eyes, but these were far more vibrant than the typical dusty-pink or burgundy irises Link observed daily. This stranger’s eyes were so red that the firelight reflected off them like mirrors, the red flickering like it too was on fire. Link couldn’t help but notice that they were stunning. The rest of his face was hidden with what Link now recognized as a traditional Sheikah military uniform meant for special occasions. Many of the newly arrived Sheikah were also wearing them, but none of theirs were embroidered with gold thread like the stranger’s. Noticing other minor differences in the red cloth that his companion wore, Link determined he must be some kind of officer.

Link must have looked confused because his companion gestured to a small group of young Sheikah warriors who had gathered around someone standing on a crate that hadn’t been removed from the plaza. The men and women surrounding the crate were obviously encouraging their friend, who was whooping with laughter.

“That one is one of mine, he’s been drunk since midday. Three years ago, he gave a legendary speech at the winter solstice celebration.” The stranger’s tone was conversational, amused and open. He was trying to include Link in the fun. Link decided he had probably looked pathetic enough that anyone used to leading people would notice.

Pathetic.

“It looks like we might have an encore this year.” Link managed a surely fake-looking smile. This stranger seemed kind, Link felt guilty for his own social ineptitude. “What was his speech about?” Even while drunk Link thought his own voice sounded weird. Like it was riddled with cobwebs from disuse.

“He had a theory for why the Zora in Hyrule live so long.” Link was so transfixed by the movement of the cloth of his companions face-coverings as he spoke that he barely registered the words as he haerd them. If his eyes were this enrapturing, Link would bet so many rupees that the rest of his face was also gorgeous.

“I’m from Hyrule.” Link exclaimed, finally (he was sure he had been staring too long), surprised to hear of his homeland in this place between worlds.

“I know, your ears are a dead give-away.” Link felt suddenly embarrassed. Of course any educated person would be able to tell he was Hylian. His companion chuckled again, this time clearly at Link. “I’m sorry, I fear the wine has made me rude. I can’t wait to hear what my man thinks of Hyrule’s Zoras.”

“And what’s that?”

“Well what my soldier taught me in his magnificent speech was that, with each battle a Zora wins, they gain an additional dick. Males and females the same.” Link couldn’t help himself but laugh, the glint of amusement in the stranger’s eyes was infectious. Almost immediately, they were both out of breath from laughing. The fire glinted off of moisture beading up in the corners of the stranger’s eyes.

Link struggled to catch his breath, his chest feeling warm and validated because he was able to make the handsome stranger laugh. “I don’t know them well, but I’m almost completely sure that’s not true.” His companion’s face immediately fell in mock disappointment, so Link, feeling his insides twist in distress, quickly amended his statement. “Though, rumor has it that the males have two.”

“You can’t just tell me this with a straight face like this isn’t the most important news of my life.” Maybe it was just the alcohol, but Link couldn’t stop himself from laughing again. “You’re laughing but I could have found myself a Zora husband years ago! This is serious.” His companion’s mock despair only managed to amplify Link’s laughter.

Seemingly not bothered by Link’s lack of words, which was unusual but definitely appreciated, the stranger asked for more information about Link’s homeland. Surprisingly, talking about a place that Link would rather forget was enjoyable with this man. Talking hadn’t been easy for Link since the start of the war, but this stranger was patient. A good listener. For what must have been hours, Link delighted his new friend with stories of children that never grew up, endless bodies of water, and talking trees.

But too soon, the fires were reduced to smoldering heaps and everyone except the young adults had gone home. Link had nodded goodnight to the young couple who sold him their home, smiling softly at the sight of their sleeping daughter.

“Do you have to leave?” Link was careful to keep his tone neutral, even though he had had a good time with this strange general from another village. He hadn’t met very many with as much patience for a shell-shocked, introverted runaway.

The stranger paused for a beat too long, and when he finally did speak, his words were tinged with regret. “Yes. If I stay much longer I’m afraid the morning patrols will be too hungover to stop an insect.” The stranger stood as he spoke, and Link, not knowing the protocol and feeling awkward, stood with him. They studied each other in silence, transfixed even as the party raged on and the air was still loud with music.

Surprising both of them, seemingly, the stranger stuck out his hand with an open palm. A parting gesture. Something about the act made Link’s heart plummet. Genuine human connection wasn’t something Link had been gifted with in a long time. He hadn’t had someone he considered a friend since- since- in a long time. He took the offered hand, trying to convince himself that saying goodbye to a _stranger_ was a normal occurrence.

“My name is Sahil, but my friends call me Sheik. I hope to see you again, my friend.”

Link was frozen, his mind replaying a different man’s words. A man he tried not to think about. A man he couldn’t stop thinking about.

_“My name is Sheik, I’ll be your guide.”_

Sheik.

Link felt ten years old again, crying out to goddesses that would not, could not help him, to childhood friends who could not help him, to a man that did help him, seven years later.

_Sheik wait._

But Link’s momentary stupor had been too long, Sheik had vanished into the crowd of soldiers that had formed in preparation to ride home. He was gone. Link choked down something somewhere between a cough and a sob, his panic mounting as he remained unable to locate Sheik in the crowd. He watched as militia saddled their horses and left, frozen in place as memories he constantly tried to repress rocketed through his body.

He hadn’t felt like this since the morning after he had defeated Ganon.

Despite his physical age being seventeen, Link had been ten only months ago. It must have been quite the sight, a tall, muscular man rocking himself back and forth on the floor like a child. That’s how Zelda had found him, but when she knelt down to provide comfort, he shied away. The princess was a stranger to him. She wouldn’t be able to erase the images of Ganon’s grotesque, pig like body, or the phantom pain potions weren’t able to heal. Link wasn’t sure which image terrified him more, the sight of blood spurting out of his own chest, or the twitching body of Ganon as he died, screaming the whole time.

_“What can I do to help, hero?”_

_“Nothing. Where is Sheik?”_ Link’s words had come out choked, like the air was being squeezed from his lungs.

_“Sheik isn’t real.”_

_Sheik didn’t exist._

That’s what made those few days the hardest. Link could no longer speak to the sages now that they were using most of their energy to contain Ganon. The Deku Tree was dead. Sheik was the only friend that Link had left, his sole support during the war, and he _didn’t exist._ Link felt stupid, naive, like a child. All this time, it had just been Zelda in a disguise.

What made Link feel even stupider was that he still didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. Sheik had been there and had been so real. He barely spoke, barely stayed. Link hadn’t known anything about him. But Link had _felt_ his presence, his spirit. Without words, without contact, Sheik had grounded him. Sheik had be _there._ Link was sure that he wouldn’t have survived his travels without his guide. He was surer about this than anything else in his life.

Link wished that he had gone to Zelda angry, demanding she stop lying to him. He wished he screamed and raved. Truthfully, Link hadn’t had the strength to be angry in a long time. He went to Zelda with scratch marks on his arms matching his own fingernails. With dark circles under his eyes, a haunted look behind blue irises. He went to her to plead, not to demand. He begged her for Sheik, just to see him, his already red eyes somehow producing even more tears.

“Please, Zelda. I know he’s real. Please just let me see him. Just once. He doesn’t even have to meet with me. I just need to see him.” Link watched from his place on his knees as something inside of Zelda broke. He knew, vaguely, that she cared about him. But for one second, he glimpsed the terror that _she_ had lived through, and he realized that she understood the agony his own mind was putting him through better than anyone.

_“Do you really want to know the truth?” Zelda had sounded so sad, like she knew Link had already made up his mind._

Link was not sure that his voice would obey him, so he nodded emphatically. Zelda set down in front of him, where she had been standing, and pressed her forehead to meet Link’s. Instantly, Link was overwhelmed with a memory that did not belong to him.

He was still sitting on the floor, but now there was dirt underneath him instead of a soft rug. He looked around through Zelda’s eyes, taking in the space around him. It seemed to be set into some sort of rock, maybe a cliff. Two of the walls were stone. The entrance was small. A hideout. There were tunnels leading to more rooms, both inside the stone and freestanding, but the base was quiet. The only other being was a woman that Link immediately recognized as a younger Impa, who too was sitting on the floor. She had maps in front of her, and seemed to be trying to decipher something. As Link watched, a sound startled the Sheikah woman and she stood.

“Princess, there is someone outside.” Zelda went to get up, swinging her feet from in front of her to underneath her, but a quiet voice froze both hers and Impa’s movements.

“Please, I am… Friend.” The broken Sheikah lapsed into racking coughs, which alarmed both Impa and Zelda.

Impa’s face after she peered through the slit in the was stony.

“Zelda, I need you to get back. Just in case.” Zelda nodded silently, backing away from the door as Impa lifted the protections on the door.

What Zelda, and Link in parallel, noticed first was the smell. As soon as Impa opened the door the stench of rotting flesh perfumed the air. What was much, much worse, was the sight of rotting flesh. The sight of rotting flesh on a _living_ boy. Zelda, past Zelda, covered her mouth in horror and schooled her stomach to cooperate.

The boy that Impa carried through their short, wooden door was, at most, fifteen years old. He had long, matted blonde hair and piercing red eyes that were now glassy and glazed over. With pain? With a fever? The only thing that Link knew while experiencing Zelda’s memory that this boy was Sheik. This was the first time he had seen the Sheikah’s face uncovered, if one could even call it that. Most of his face was covered with dried blood, making him almost unrecognizable, but Link had spent enough time searching for solace in those eyes that he recognized them immediately.

_Sheik was real._

_Sheik was dying._

Link had seen enough horrors during the war with Ganondorf that he knew when a wound had passed the point of no return. The gash in Sheik’s side didn’t look particularly deep, but the edges of the wound had turned black. Zelda, and Link, gagged when she noticed maggots in the congealed pulp the had replaced most of Sheik’s left abdomen.

Impa’s voice became little more than a dull buzz, powerless against the ringing in Link’s ears. The only thing he could do was stare at Sheik as he died, whispering in broken Sheikah to Zelda’s protector. Right before he grew still, the Sheikah boy’s eyes filled with tears, and he appeared to pray.

When Link came to, he was shaking. His ears were still ringing, and the image of Sheik’s pain wracked body was everywhere he looked. Zelda was there too, but she was leaving.

“Wait. What happened?” Despite the horrors he had already seen, Link had some masochistic, twisted desire to know.

Zelda looked unsure, already afraid she had shown him too much. Link had gone through so much trauma, he didn’t need this too.

“His village was one of the first destroyed in the genocide. When he arrived at our hideout, he was the only surviving member of the village.” Zelda paused, and visibly steadied herself. “He was distantly related to Impa, and knew of her role as my protector.”

“Overtaken by grief and dying, he asked for his spirit to be used to hide me. Initially, Impa refused, but Sheik said it was for his family. So they would not have died in vain."

Zelda looked back at him again before retreating from her own room. Her look said that she thought he was better off not knowing the truth.

She was probably right.

When Zelda offered to send him back to his own time, Link refused. He couldn’t shake the horrible, gut-wrenching guilt of watching Sheik die while he had been asleep. Sheik, his guide, his only human contact, had died, a child, while Link had been peacefully dormant in the Temple of Time. Link didn’t deserve to have a normal childhood. He compromised with Zelda, he let her send him back seven years, but with the caveat that he would keep all his memories.

He kept memories of Saria, who now resided in the Forest Temple. He kept all of the trauma of the war, no easier to deal with now that it had been when the memories were fresh experiences. Most importantly, he kept the memories of his companion who had died too young.

_Sheik._

Link could not formulate coherent thoughts, be it from the alcohol or the shock of seeing Sheik here. When he first left Hyrule, he had looked for a boy with long hair and piercing red eyes, only to be disappointed again and again. At some point, he had given up, convinced himself the goddesses were keeping his guide from him because Link didn’t deserve to see him. Link had let him die, along with the rest of the Sheikah. It didn’t matter that it had been in a previous life, the transgression still stood. Link was selfish to think he would reunite with his companion.

_Sheik._

Why hadn’t Link noticed?

Link didn’t know. The only thing he knew is that he physically needed to be home. He had suffered through enough panic attacks in his lifetime to know that it would be bad if Link broke down among a crowd of strangers. As quickly as possible, he dragged his drunk, heavy body back to his tiny house. Thank the three, it was close to the square. The one-story structure looked sad and vacant in the dregs of the firelight. The two small windows in the front were dark and vacant. With shaking hands that nearly dropped the key twice, Link opened the door. It was too slow, everything was happening too quickly and the door opening was taking too long. In an instant Link was inside and the door was slamming behind him. 

Link feared the day that anyone found out how often an occurrence this was. Especially in the first few weeks of living in Sh’ru, he had spent most evenings like tonight, knees bunched to his chest, face buried in his hands, reliving walking corpses and giant Skulltulas. Some nights he would sob into his knees for those he had lost. Some nights he would squeeze his eyes shut in an attempt to keep the memories away. All of the worst nights he would do what he was doing now, choke out shallow breaths between racking sobs. His chest felt like it was collapsing, panic overtaking his body and mind.

Truly an inspiration, the hero of time having a panic attack because of four words.

_My friends call me Sheik._

Link felt wretched, pathetic, and so, so lonely. Large crowds frightened him so he avoided them whenever possible. He was purposefully distant with the villagers. He left his homeland of his own accord. Yet, somehow, selfishly, he longed for companionship. More often than not, Link still felt like the ten-year-old who had been assigned a role far to vast and important for someone so young.

In that moment, sitting in the dark on the floor of his empty house, Link hated himself. He hated that he hadn’t been able to save Sheik in his previous timeline. He hated the part of his mind that screamed for him to run and to catch Sheik and to make sure he was never put in danger again. He hated the part of his mind that reassured him that Sheik would never care for him, that he was just a stranger, that if Sheik knew how pathetic Link was he would never speak to him ever again. But, most of all, he hated the fact that after 9 years, he still wasn’t strong enough to shoulder the burden of being the goddesses’ hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a disaster child retweet if you cry every time


	2. An Outstretched Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I realize it's been 700 years since I last updated and for that I have no excuses. I'm sorry. This chapter was going to be about twice the length but I decided to post this to tyde y'all over while I edit the second half. You guys have been so nice about this fic and I really appreciate each and every one of you.

Even when wallowing in self hatred, people still had to eat. Even the Hero of Time. This fact was what brought Link to the market on a scorching, beautiful day. He had half a mind to just wait it out another day to avoid having to interact with people, but he had just run out of tea. Desert nights got cold very quickly after the solstice, and a hot cup of tea was a routine that Link was unwilling to break.

Even though it had only been a week since the summer solstice, Link didn’t want to be surprised by sudden, bitterly cold nights.

It didn’t feel like a week had passed. A quick glance in the mirror before he had left had revealed to Link that he looked almost as haggard as he felt. His hair was greasy and dull, even when tied into some kind of attempt at a bun. The skin around his eyes was red and flaking. Many sleepless nights were loudly displayed across his face.

Link hadn’t been this messed up in years. It had been easier to silently go about his existence, numbly doing favors for strangers, looking away from the emptiness in his own eyes. Numbness was easy. It was rational. It was safe. Shamefully, it had taken one pair of red eyes to crumble all the coping mechanisms he had built up over years of sorting through trauma.

Link forcibly wrangled his thoughts from glazed over rubies back to choosing the best rice from a merchants booth. This specific merchant traveled from the swamplands of Termina to trade rice and other wetland crops that were hard to come by in the desert. The long journey cost a high premium, but Link had been quite taken with the rich risottos of Zora cuisine, and liked to enjoy some foods from Hyrule.

Soon Link had filled his pack with many things in addition to the rice. Most importantly, he had bought tea from a slightly sketchy looking merchant peddling foreign trinkets and various teas. The tea Link always found himself enjoying the most was a blend spicy with cardamom and cinnamon that was popular among many Sheikah. He took great care to place the small packet in his bag so that it wouldn’t spill as the blend was pretty expensive, especially as Link hadn’t had the energy to pick up odd jobs in a while.

“Hey!”

A shout jolted him out of his concentration, causing him to lose some precious leaves. Startled, and more than a little peeved, Link looked up to find the asshole that had interrupted his peaceful shopping experience. The asshole, it turned out, was jogging toward him with a huge smile on his face. Lilac colored robes flowed behind him like water as he ran, complimented by long hair bound with the same color fabric. The face was unfamiliar to Link, he was sure he would have remembered a smile with that captured that much sunlight, but he recognized the man immediately. Those ruby eyes haunted him both waking and dreaming.

_Sheik._

“My friend! I was looking for you!.” Link was too disoriented to answer right away. The figure in front of him was shorter than him by half a head, but his presence was bigger than anyone’s. Sheik took Link’s silence in stride, speaking just animatedly as before.

“You would think more people would know of the only Hylian in town.” Sheik gave a small chuckle at that, obviously trying to make Link more comfortable. It didn’t really work, Link still felt like fleeing and never leaving his home ever again, but he attempted a smile. From the way that Sheik’s carefully schooled expression lapsed into a flash of amusement, his expression probably wasn’t very convincing.

“I didn’t get your name the other day, what should I call you?” This guy had the patience of a goddess; Link tried again to give him a smile. The muscles in his face seemed less defective this time, and he was sure this attempt was more successful than his last one.

“Link is fine.”Link’s voice was rough from disuse, but Sheik didn’t seem phased. Instead he said Link’s name back to him, trying out the foreign sounds. He hadn’t noticed it before even after living among the Sheikah for two years, but something about the lilting nature of the accent made Link’s name sound much nicer than when he said it. The care that Sheik took trying to pronounce the name was immense.

“Well, Link, what are you doing today?” Looking around, Link realized that Sheik’s loud, billowing entrance had drawn more attention than he had initially thought. Even so, most people had turned back to their shopping. It was hot. Like really hot.

He gestured vaguely in the direction of the market. “Shopping.” Sheik nodded solemnly. “Would you like some company?”

Link tried to find a reason that this was a bad idea but he couldn't figure out how to word it. Hi I can’t hang out with you because I saw you die in another life? Nope. I haven’t had a real friend in nine years and would love to hang out with you but I’m socially inept? That wasn’t the one either. All I want is to do my grocery shopping and then curl up on my couch and die? Not saying that one.

“Uh yeah, sure.” Killing it, Link.

Sheik didn’t seem to mind Link’s ineptitude. He also seemed to pick up on Link’s aversion to speaking, filling the silence with facts about the people of Sh’ru. He knew the merchants, and the gossip they carried with them.

Something about seeing his new friend interact with people that Link himself knew cemented the man in reality, and it warmed Link. This Sheik was radiant and so beautifully alive that Link felt himself being swept up in an undeniable whirlwind of excited energy.

Sheik gestured back to to the traveler Link had just purchased mushrooms from. “How well do you know Abdul?” Truthfully, Link hadn’t even known the man’s name, but he didn’t want to show Sheik what a horrible neighbor he was.

“Not very well.”

“My soldiers are convinced that he visits the Great Fairy, frequently.” Sheik wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Link, startling a laugh out of him. For someone with such beautifully angular cheek bones and long eyelashes, the gesture looked quite ridiculous.

Fighting to hide a smile at the faces a newly encouraged Sheik was making at him, Link couldn’t come up with a reason that the Sheikah of this desert would know about the Great Fairies. “Is there a Great Fairy near here?”

“Not for weeks journey.”

Link watched as Sheik’s energy visibly dimmed for a moment. Before he was sure it happened, Sheik was smiling and talking again. “Many people in my village are quite enamored with the fairies, though. My mother was one of the most interested.”

The past tense in Sheik’s voice pained Link. Foolishly, he had assumed that this Sheik would not have endured hardship, but he now realized this was stupid and self centered. Of course Link could not fix the problems of an entire race, how arrogant could one person get. Still, with the way that Sheik’s robes were constantly moving in the sunlight, Link thought that this kind of relentless, shining energy wouldn’t belong to someone who was unhappy.

“I met a great fairy back in Hyrule.” Sheik was immediately listening. In fact, his attention hadn’t left Link since they had met that day.

Link, encourage, continued. “She was beautiful.” All of the fairies he had met were beautiful, but with Sheik so open and giving, he felt guilty at giving such a bland anecdote. “Beautiful but probably the most terrifying being I’ve ever met.”Sheik was giggling.

“I’m serious, she could have eaten me!”Sheik was still laughing, but his eyes were fixed on Link’s own.

“I’m sure you could’ve handled anything.” Years of being both Hyrule’s and Termina’s hero had given him countless compliments like this one, but they had always felt more like expectations than actual compliments. But Sheik didn’t know who he was, didn’t know anything about him other than the tiny glimpses Link was brave enough to let slip, but he was still kind. His eyes were still warm.

Something about this easy, kind companionship made Link feel like he was being buffeted by the warm desert air, kept aloft by gusts of sunshine and breathy giggles. It was easier to breathe when he was being held up by such gentle wind.

A side effect of shopping with company is that the time between merchants nearly tripled, and the sun had dipped from it’s apex by the time that Link’s pack was adequately stuffed with groceries. Link had noticed ruby red eyes fixed on him in moments of silence, but he assumed it was because Link’s lack of words had made the situation uncomfortable.

As pleasant as the feeling of newfound companionship felt, Link felt like a terrible imposer, merely preying on the kindness of a sweet stranger. He allowed himself a deep breath, a beat of darkness behind his own eyelids. After that moment, Sheik’s eyes were on him again. The sunlight made his blonde eyelashes shine. Ruby red set into a frame of gold.

“You’re ready to go home.” Sheik’s voice was softer than it had been, but he wasn’t asking Link a question. Normally, Link would have been annoyed if someone informed _him_ of what _he_ wanted, but Sheik was right. Link was ready to go home. He nodded.

Wordlessly, Sheik gestured for Link to lead the way.

Link’s house was close to town center, but even in the few minutes they were walking together Link noticed their difference in height. He couldn’t quite see the top of Sheik’s head, but he could appreciate the sinewy, rope-like muscle that made up his shoulders. The silk robes adorning his companion looked breathtaking on those shoulders.

When Link stopped in front of his house, Sheik stopped too, expressionlessly taking in the humble structure. Had he done his dishes? Suddenly, Link couldn’t remember. It wouldn’t do to let his new companion see what a horrid mess his house was. Then he might suspect that Link too was a horrid mess. And he’d be right. Cold, systematic panic filled his chest upon his next breath, and he was stunned in place. If Sheik found out about Link’s issues, he would leave. Link would never see him again. Link would be alone.

“Hey,” Link was vaguely aware of Sheik’s body behind his, not touching but near,“I’m going to head home.”

“Don’t you wanna come in?”

“Not this time, my friend.” Link turned around only to be greeted by a small, friendly smile. Link, despeartly trying to school his face into a nondescript expression, found that words failed him. He nodded meekly. That seemed to be enough for Sheik.

“I had fun today. I hope to see you again.” Before Link could choke out any words, Sheik was already leaving, silk robes accenting the swish of his hips.

As soon as Sheik vanished from sight after turning a corner, Link took refuge in his home. A couple glances around the dining room/kitchen hybrid showed that only a mug was resting in the sink. Not the overflowing mess that Link had imagined. Again, he felt like an absolute idiot. Not so much because he had panicked in front of Sheik – Link constantly hated himself for his frequent panic attacks, that was old news – but because how he hadn’t thought about the traumas of his adventures for hours.

Link plopped face down on his couch, suddenly too lethargic to put away his grimaces. He felt pathetic. He had had a good day, had spent the day with someone who was funny and kind, yet here he was wallowing in his own bullshit. Nothing was actually wrong, but still, Link could not breathe. He tried to close his eyes against the panic and self-loathing, but behind his eyelids all he could see was Sheik's lovely face, massacred. He was reduced to staring into the rough material of his couch, rapidly blinking back tears. He wished he could be just be a normal person.

* * *

By the time Link saw Sheik again, nearly an entire moon cycle had already passed. The weather, while still oppressively hot, was changing. The winds had grown stiller and no longer wisped away every drop of moisture from the desert. The air, hot a humid, made Link feel like he was breathing in soup. However, even in the lethargic humidity, the town was buzzing with anticipation.

Link had grown up with autumn; the leaves in the Kokiri forest would blaze like fire and then die, perfect for tiny feet to crunch through. Autumn was Saria’s favorite, and her excitement always cheered Link up.

Here, there were no leaves to change color. Instead, the desert was drenched in sheets of rain. Last year, the first time Link had experienced a monsoon, he had been taken aback by the sheer stillness of the desert. The town seemed like it was sleeping, enthusiastically anticipating its rebirth once the rain stopped.

In preparation for the monsoons, Link had been helping his neighbors rebuild their roof. Wood, while commonplace in hyrule, was very expensive this far from any woodland. To conserve this precious resource, the Sheikah filled in their roofs with hardened clay and palm fronds from the nearest oasis. The sun baked the mixture till it was as hard as stone, creating material that was quite versatile against the rain.

Many young men had volunteered in the past week, Link’s favorite being a broad man with shocking lilac hair, Kafei. Kafei wasn’t put off by Link’s silence, and would tell the entire team his stories in a fashion both boisterous and earnest at the same time. His favorite topic was his fiance, Anju. Kafei would boast that he had scored the most beautiful woman in the entire universe. And how could one argue with him when he smiled that proudly?

It was Kafei that nudged Link now, startling him and causing him to flinch. Kafei, put his hands palms up in a silent appology.

“Do you know if there’s some kind of important visitor in town?”

What?

Link was silent, but his expression was enough validation that he didn’t know what was happening.

“I saw one of the generals pass by about twenty minutes ago, and now he’s back. I don’t know him though so I don’t wanna say nothing.”

A general? Was there something wrong?

Was it _Sheik?_

Link scrambled to his feet, knocking the iron tool he had been using to the ground. Kafei’s eyes followed it down, returning to Link’s now standing figure confused.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

But Link’s attention was elsewhere. Link’s childhood guide was across the street from the house Link was now sliding down the roof of. Just as Link got to the ladder propped up against the roof of the modest home, Sheik’s expression flashed through expressions. At first his eyes were down-turned and … nervous? By the time their eyes met, the fire had returned to Sheik’s eyes.

His hair, ineffectively piled in a bun, fell in his eyes.

He smiled and laughter lines appeared in the outside corners of hooded eyelids.

Even his eyelashes were blonde.

Link felt a breath catch in his throat, suddenly unaware of his surroundings.

“Hi.” He said as he jogged over, louder than he intended. He was vaguely aware of Kafei stifling a laugh from the roof. It was fine, Sheik hadn’t noticed. Link hadn’t blown it, yet.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What?” They had spoken at the same time, causing Link to miss what his acquaintance had said. Sheik didn’t seem to mind. The dusting of freckles across his cheekbones moved slightly when he smiled again.

“Let me buy you lunch.” And that was that. Link shot an apologetic look up to Kafei, who was still giggling, and fell into place beside Sheik.

Link, as he often did, found himself at a loss for words. He felt awkward and out of place next to Sheik, who greeted the majority of the people they passed. However, to his credit, Sheik’s presence seemed to raise Link’s status in the town. He received fewer odd looks than normal.

Even with his smaller stature, Sheik carried an air of authority about him. Link was fascinated. Even though Hylian gender roles weren’t a barrier for the Sheikah, there was still something cognitively dissonant about the way the people of this town approached Sheik. He was wearing a pink crop top and low cut pants, clearly showing just how petite he was, but men and women that dwarfed his size respectfully got out of his way.

Link, a soldier in his own right, fiercely respected the authority Sheik had among his people. While many knew of Link’s skill in fighting, and perhaps his bravery on the battlefield, he had felt like a bumbling idiot for the brief time he spent at Zelda’s court. Sheik seemed to shoulder the expectations upon him effortlessly.

However, when Link voiced his thoughts once they had sat down in a tiny restaurant, Sheik hadn’t responded with the same grace he commanded in the street. His expression immediately closed off, the flames in his eyes constructing solid walls around his thoughts, pushing Link out.

“They didn’t always respect me.” He said, in a neutral tone that caused Link’s anxiety to spike. Link briefly contemplated leaving, even though he had agreed to the invitation, but Sheik’s voice stopped him.

“Let’s talk about something else. Have you ever been here?” The conversation followed more naturally from that point on, Sheik’s reactions giving Link more confidence in his still lackluster conversational skills.

Even so, that hitch in the conversation replayed in Link’s mind. The more he spent time with Sheik, the less he understood the other man. Somehow, he was naive enough to try to befriend Link. Or maybe he was just absurdly charitable. However, his naivety was contrasted hsarpley by the great respect his people paid him. Hi emotions were like an open book, but even so Link felt illiterate. Despite his confusion, the shared meal was far from unpleasant.

Sheik was both funny and patient, and seem to take deliberate actions to make Link feel comfortable. His body language was open and relaxed, and he encouraged Link to try some of his favorites from the one page menu.

“I’ve come all the way here just for this soup before.” Sheik confessed. There was an unspoken acknowledgment that Sheik had come into town for a different reason, but Link didn’t want to break the calm. Instead, he savored his cup of the bright orange soup, acknowledging the flavors of the hot peppers, pumpkin, and tomatoes. There was something deeply vulnerable about Sheik sharing this place with Link.

Since he left Hyrule castle, Link had shared many meals with many people. Some were had in small farmsteads with kind families. Some were eaten in silence in noisy pubs. And some were served from a communal pot as soldiers and workers alike sat by campfires.

Food was comforting for him, it was grounding. And, from his extensive people-watching, Link believed this was true for many others.

The inside of this building was not beautiful. The rug was faded and threadbare, the windows were opaque from years of use, and the tables and chairs were plain. But the family who owned it were kind, and the food tasted incredible.

If food were a language, this meal would say “welcome home.”

Link met Sheik’s expectant gaze with something just short of wonder. Whatever it was that he saw, Sheik smiled again, softer this time.

“I know.” It didn’t really make sense, Link hadn’t put any of the emotions swimming in his gut into words, but Sheik still seemed to understand. The notion was comforting, but unexpected.

Link had always thought his emotional reactions to the concept of “home” were a product of trauma, of the goddesses stealing his childhood. He had never met someone who seemed to get it. But Sheik sought out this place for a reason, and without being able to fully form the thought, Link felt more connected to another human being than he had since he was a child.

Link allowed himself a tiny smile, which only seemed to make Sheik happier, then they went back to stuffing their faces.

Once they had slowed down, Link trying to stab the grapes in his salad and Sheik sopping up the last bits of soup with a flat bread, Sheik spoke again.

“I’ve taken friends here before and they’ve made fun of me,” Link couldn’t imagine anyone ridiculing Sheik for something that was so clearly important to him. Sheik deserved good things and to be happy. All his life before was running away and fighting and death- “But I knew you wouldn’t.”

Oh.

What.

Link didn’t know what to say. At the same time as he felt vile for receiving such high trust when he didn’t deserve it, he felt an ache in his chest at the praise. The same part of him that held Sheik on an untouchable pedestal longed to reach that level. Link’s chest felt tight.

Sheik, seemingly aware of Link’s discomfort, motioned that he was getting up to pay for their meal. As he passed by Link on his way to the counter, Link felt his hand apply quick, soft pressure to his upper arm. A quick squeeze, like a promise to come back.

Link felt the spot where Sheik had touched burn. For some reason, his throat felt full like he was about to cry. Link scanned his memories for a time he has reacted to touch like this, but the only thing he could conclude was that he couldn’t remember the last time he had touched another person.

He felt pathetic and childish, brought to the verge of breakdown by the barest of touch, but he was grateful for the gesture. Link did not believe he deserved it, but he was vile and selfish and greedy, and he wanted more of the fire that burned around Sheik.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know Sheik only came to Sh'ru to come see the pretty boy he can't fool anybody except the pretty boy himself.


	3. Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up guess who actually posted on time. It's me. I posted on time.  
> This chapter takes place chronologically immediately after the last one.
> 
> CW: A panic attack

As they left the restaurant, Link and Sheik both looked up at a sky that had very quickly become dark green and imposing. The clouds, turgid and swollen with moisture, were approaching quickly. Even when reason said that the sun should be just past its zenith, the light was blotted out by the cloud-cover. A quick glance at his companion had Link startled. Link had met Sheik – or was it reunited? - in the dark, and he had noticed that the other man’s eyes seemed to capture the surrounding light.

Now, in the false twilight they stood under, his eyes seemed to be the only thing emitting light. Like two rubies that had entrapped countless souls, Sheik’s eyes seemed to glow when he smiled. He gave Link’s puzzled look no answer, instead gesturing towards the sky. Before Link could find the words to ask what his companion was so excited about, Sheik was off, taking off at a pace just short of a run.

“I left my horse tied up near the square.” Sheik’s voice was urgent, but laced with excitement.

Link jogged after him, not feeling Sheik’s excitement. He was more worried about getting stuck in the torrential rain that was surely going to start soon. Link would much rather be home most times, but especially when it was raining.

Despite the change in surroundings, following Sheik like this reminded Link of his childhood. Back then, Link clung to Sheik as a lifeline. Especially at the beginning of his journey, Link felt unworthy of the responsibility the goddesses had thrust upon him. Mere weeks ago he had left his childhood home for the first time.

But Sheik had been there. He never stayed as long as Link wanted him to, and he wasn’t exactly the most comforting of people, but he had been physically there. No one else had been there at every temple.

Especially as the goddesses claimed more people to be their sages – the took his friends and acquaintances without regard for Link’s loneliness – the boy in man’s garb relied on any consistency he could grab on to. Soon, his tether became exclusively his guide.

In the future Link had imagined for himself, on the rare nights he didn’t believe he would die before his quest was done, Sheik was there too. Sometimes it was the only comfort he had. Sometimes he let himself try and imagine what they would do in this future. Link didn’t know, his mind and soul were still barely ten years old and any energy that would have been used for creativity was expended by fear.

Deep in the reaches of his memory, Link remembered a dream that he had during the war. The memory came in flashes of images and sounds, without connection. Sheik was always in front of him with his back turned, just like they traveled now. In the dreams they wove through densely packed trees instead of dispersing city crowds. Now, Link wasn’t clad in green and Sheik wasn’t wearing the uniform that Zelda had used as disguise. Now, Link was much older but no less frightened. Now, Sheik was alive and even more beautiful than Link had ever thought possible.

With so many differences, Link still felt acutely that he was following in the same footsteps he had traced before Zelda had reset time. Maybe it was the familiarity with Sheik’s soul. Maybe it was because the last time Link had felt grounded was when he stood with Sheik.

Usually, repeating the events of his past would quickly send Link into a panic attack, but today was different. It was easier to retrace events that brought him comfort.

Just as they reached a black horse tethered to a lamp-post in the square, the first fat water droplets hit Link’s head.

Sheik worked quickly to untie his horse. “He’s a smart horse, he’ll find cover and come find me after the rain stops.” Link barely had time to ache for the horse he had left in Hyrule before the rain started.

In the moments before any natural event, the flying creatures silently awaited the coming change in remote hideouts. Earthbound creatures silently held their breath, praying that the goddesses’ wrath would spare them. In the instants before the rain, the entire dessert fell silent. Almost.

In the handful of seconds before the curtains of water enveloped them, Sheik started to laugh. The sound came from deep in his chest, relieving all the stress in his muscles. He closed his eyes in the rain, still laughing. His clothing absorbed the water almost immediately as rivulets of water ran down his body.

Link was speechless. He knew he was witnessing something special, almost sacred. For the dessert, and its inhabitants, the rains were a time of rebirth and rejuvenation. He had heard the ways the Sheikah chatted happily about the coming rainy season. He had seen the festivals that celebrated the new year with the end of the rains. But he had never seen someone as viscerally connected to the energy of their homeland like Sheik was in this moment.

Magic filled the air like invisible vapor. Link felt it on his skin, in his chest, against his sodden back. It didn’t crackle or burn like magic he had felt before, it merely held him, cradled him, intangible but undeniably there.

When Link was a toddler, he hadn’t been introduced to the Kokiri yet. The Great Deku tree probably thought that he would figure out his identity as a Hylian much faster if he aged and his peers didn’t. However, those days weren’t as lonely the rest of his childhood. He remembered the feeling of curling up with Saria, the one Kokiri that helped raise him, in the roots of The Great Deku Tree.

This magic was soft like Saria’s voice, warm like Saria’s touch.

Link was suddenly acutely aware that he was in the presence of one of the most powerful mages he had ever met. Sheik had not cast a spell, his laughter and still hands proved that much. What Link was feeling was a visceral reaction to the rain falling over the land, responding to the Goddesses’ gift of water like a song.

Link reached out, his body calling him to be closer to the source of that magnetic power, but once Link’s had found Sheik’s the spell was broken. Sheik’s eyes snapped open, and Link was again aware of his cold, soaked clothing clinging to him.

However, some of the magic in the air must have stayed, because when Link saw Sheik’s smiling eyes fixed on his own, he was compelled to do something stupid and out of character.

“Come on, you can stay with me until the rain stops.” Link pulled on Sheik’s hand, and they took off running through the now deserted city.

Water turned streets into rivers, shallow, but still powerful enough to make their footing unstable. Link saw faces in windows as the flashed by, undoubtedly wondering who was crazy enough to still be outside.

Thunder startled another laugh out of Sheik, and Link found himself grinning, unable to care what the villagers thought.

By the time they stumbling over Link’s doorstep, Link’s calves stung from the effort of running through the now ankle high water. He gingerly tiptoed through his house, failing to keep water off of the floor, to find towels. After launching about five towels at Sheik’s head, all of which he caught gracefully, Link set about trying to salvage his hardwood floors.

Even though Link usually didn’t care about material possessions, it gave him the time to breathe after whatever just happened. Maybe it was the after effects of magic. Or the fact that another person had never actually been in his house. Whatever it was, Link was flustered.

He was even more flustered when he realized that Sheik had been watching him frantically sop up water. Link couldn’t remember actually saying anything to his guest since they had arrived.

“Shit.” Very eloquent, Link. Beautiful.

Sheik’s lips quirked slightly, but he met Link’s eyes patiently and waited for him to find the words.   
  


“Do you want some tea? And, um, dry clothes. I don’t have that much but Sheikah clothing is loose anyway so it should be fine and-”

“I’m sure it will be fine. Do you mind if I use your stove? It is cold in here.”

Link nodded, but was confused. The rain had been pretty warm, and even as the drops evaporated, Link wasn’t cold yet. Maybe it was because Sheik had grown up in a much warmer climate than Link had.

Link’s closet was an absolute mess, but he managed to find two sets of clothing. The second, with navy blue pants and a white shirt, was a little to tight for Link’s comfort so would, hopefully, fit Sheik.

Pushing down disgust at the feeling of his soaked clothing peeling from his skin, Link toweled off his dirty blonde hair and changed into his own clothes, gray pants and a white shirt. If Link ever slept wearing clothes, these would be his pajamas.

Oh no.

Where would Sheik sleep?

The couch was fine to sleep on but Link wouldn’t make his guest sleep on it. Should Link sleep on the couch? There was enough room for him in the bed. Did friends share beds? What about new friends?

Resigning himself to sleeping on the couch, Link made a vow to himself to stop talking out of his ass in the future. He caused himself too much damn stress.

In the time that Link had spent changing clothes and then soon after freaking out, Sheik had manged to light the fire in the stove, and in the fireplace. The flicker of new flames were starting to heat up his house, and even though Link didn’t usually keep the temperature that high, the warmth was nice.

Wordlessly, they traded items, Link exchanging the dry clothes in his hands for the kettle that Sheik had just snatched from a shelf opposite the stove. Link noted distractedly that Sheik had to stand on his toes to reach things on the middle shelf.

“The bathroom is over there.”

Sheik nodded and went to change, his clothes still dripping onto Link’s floor.

Link busied himself with making tea. He had to search for an additional mug; he was used to drinking his tea in solitude. Even so, as he settled into the corner of his couch with a cup of tea cradled in his hands, he decided he liked the noise of someone else in his house.

Especially in the reverent silence of the rain, it was peaceful but heartrendingly lonely. Now, Link thought as he watched Sheik emerge from the bathroom and inhabit the other corner of the couch, curled around his mug, he acknowledged that the rain was just as peaceful now.

As Link watched, Sheik untied the complicated net of silk strips that he had used to tie up his hair to reveal an absolute mess of wet hair. Even so, Sheik only looked slightly annoyed. He set his mug down and seem to resign himself to detangling the mats that had already formed.

Link was entranced as Sheik’s slim fingers deftly worked themselves through blonde hair. Somehow, in his childish vision of his guide, he had never imagined Sheik doing something so normal. However, with each meeting with Sheik, Link was realizing that the man was that, a man. And, somehow, the humanness of his companion made him seem even more otherworldly to Link.

The man brushing his hair on Link’s couch was real, tangible, and in Link’s presence seemingly by choice. Link couldn’t remember the last time someone filled all three of those categories.

* * *

At some point that night, Link had made dinner. It was something simple, trying to use fresh vegetables that would loose their flavor by the time the could leave the house. Sheik had thanked him enthusiastically.

He proved himself just as enthusiastic of a debater, winning the argument on who would sleep on the couch. Despite Link’s increasingly adamant protests, Sheik was sleeping on the couch.

“The sound of the rain helps me sleep, and it’s a comfortable couch.” After that, Sheik had taken the blankets Link had offered, even though many of them were scratchy, and that was that.

However, even though he was sleeping in a familiar bed, Link did not sleep well. The thing about the rain was that when other sounds were happening, it was silent. But when Link was alone like this, the rain wasn’t quiet. It was an all-consuming roar that swallowed every sound.

The rain swallowed his memories of the day, taking the ups and downs and leaving just an all-consuming roar. Link felt blank, empty. The emptiness was often Link’s only solace when things were bad. But today had been a good day, or Link had thought it had been. The roar of the rain made it hard to remember.

With this emptiness in his chest, it felt like Link was floating somewhere timeless. Grounded only by the ever-present roar of the rain, time didn’t seem to be passing normally for Link. He wasn’t sure of much, like whether he was awake, asleep, or even there in that moment, but he didn’t care.

Then he heard thunder crack above them, and Link felt it reverberate in his whole body, and the emptiness was gone. However, just as suddenly as Link was able to think again, he was acutely aware that he could not breathe.

He flailed out, trying to find something solid, something other than tightness in his chest and the panic in his throat, but found himself falling instead. He hit the floor, but he still felt like he was falling. He was reliving every time he had fallen in a temple, falling for what felt like an unimaginably long time. Link clutched his hair and drew his knees up to his chest, waiting for the crackling pain of his bones splintering on a rock-face below. His breath was caught in his chest, his fingernails cutting into his scalp the only thing that he was sure was real.

But he didn’t hit the ground. Link was vaguely aware of nimble fingers detangling his fingers from his hair. They held his hands so gently. Another hand brushed against his face, and Link was suddenly aware that he was crying.

“Link.”

“Link it’s okay. It’s me.”

Link recognized the voice, but he didn’t know who was here with him. He did all the temples by himself. He had always been alone.

“I’m Sheik, I’m your friend.” But Sheik had died, Link knew he had died. Link choked on a shallow sob, his hyperventilating making his sobs louder, more pathetic.

“Link will you breathe with me?” Sheik counted slowly from one to five, and then back down. Link tried to listen to the kind voice, and slowly he relearned how to breathe.

Link didn’t know how long they sat there, but eventually he could feel the knuckles of his companion from where they interlaced with his own. Sheik was crouched in front of him, the bottoms of his borrowed pants pooling on the floor because they were too long.

Sheik seemed to sense his steps toward lucidity, and stopped counting. Vaguely, Link missed the sound of his voice, but Sheik started speaking again soon after.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Link?”

“What?” Link choked out, his chest still tight and his throat sore from the rough breath streaming over it.

“People say that soulmates exist because the goddesses took pity on the fairies.”

What the fuck was Sheik talking about? Link watched with incredulity as Sheik moved to sit beside him, hands still tightly clasped in his own, and continued his story.

“Fairies give themselves up immediately for people in need. They were put on this land to kill themselves so others can keep on living.”

Link knew all of this, everyone did. He wasn’t sure why Sheik was telling him this, he was already miserable.

“They never complained before, but then two fairies fell in love.”

“Their families wept, they knew this kind of relationship would only hurt these two girls.”

“But one night, one of the fairies had a dream that her wife was to die the next day. She preyed, begging the Goddesses to let her meet her wife in the next life.”

Link was aware of Sheik’s thumb stroking the back of his thumb, the rhythm of his movements matching the pace of his voice.

“Because the fairies had always put others first, the Goddesses granted them this. Her wife did die the next day, but when they were reincarnated, they found each other again.”

“Some Sheikah believe that all creatures remember like the fairies do.”

Link was so distracted by his friend’s voice that he hadn’t realized that his breathing had returned to normal. His head and throat both ached, but his chest didn’t feel tight anymore.

“Do you believe that?”

Sheik was quite for a moment, his thumb still moving comfortingly against Link’s hand.

“I think it’s a quaint thing to believe in.”

The quiet that followed was long enough for Link to become embarrassed about his panic attack. Sheik was a general for a people who seen such hardship, and Link had a panic attack because of a thunderstorm. Perfect.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know how much of a mess I was.” Link fully expected Sheik to leave – especially when he stood up – but, miraculously, he didn’t.

He shook his head patiently and offered a hand to Link. Link took it, and his friend pulled him up. Once he was standing in front of the other man, Sheik spoke.

“You’re not a mess, you are a warrior.” Link opened his mouth to argue, but Sheik had said it with so much authority that he couldn’t find the words.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Link didn’t feel ready to face the roar of the silence again, but he nodded all the same. He already felt guilty for disturbing his guest’s sleep.

But Sheik surprised him again by quietly getting into Link’s bed and facing away from the center, giving Link room to join him.

Link felt overwhelmed, a lump in his throat preventing him from speaking. If he had been better at words, Link would have thanked Sheik for understanding, thanked him for being so patient. If he had been braver he would have buried his face in the back of Sheik’s shirt.

Link was neither good at words nor brave, so he laid on his back on the side of the bed ot occupied by Sheik. Without looking at him, Link felt Sheik turn over again, and felt slender fingers again interlace themselves with Link’s own.

He fell asleep like that, focusing on the feeling of slow breathing and soft fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did y'all like how I used the words "moisture" and "swollen" in the same sentence? Yeah, me neither.


End file.
